


glycerin, salt and black cherry scented soap

by acoastalshelf (blushingsigh)



Category: Wizards of Waverly Place
Genre: F/M, Homesickness, Pseudo Incest, dry humping!, kink meme prompt, they just work better as pseudo siblings, you know?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-10
Updated: 2012-03-10
Packaged: 2017-11-01 18:20:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/359839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blushingsigh/pseuds/acoastalshelf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Justin feels homesick. Alex finds out a way to make him feel better. Takes part during 'Wizards on Deck'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	glycerin, salt and black cherry scented soap

**Author's Note:**

  * For [applepips16](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=applepips16).



> Warnings: Underage pseudo-sex and pseudocest. Consider this as an AU as Justin and Alex aren't related in this fic.
> 
> This was written for a kink meme prompt and it was beta-ed by my dear friend, PL aka applepips16.

~

  
 _I swear I would collapse  
If I would tell how I think you fell   
From the sky_  
\- Blue October, 'You make me smile'  
  
  
Sometimes, Justin feels suffocated in the sea.   
  
He's always reminded of the fact that he's surrounded by water (not land) and that if he were to make a wrong movement he might not float but sink.  
  
It smells of salt and fishes and it's nothing like home which smells like pine, cheese and glycerin soap. It's exciting and it's something new but it's not home. He's never going to tell anyone not even Alex that he wants to go back.   
  
His dignity has a price- something that can't be bought be pouty pink lips and flicks of midnight black hair.  
  
-  
  
He doesn't want to tell her anything but sometimes, he wants to tap her shoulder in the darkness of the night. He closes his eyes and he wants to whisper to the air in the hope that maybe the cool breeze will carry his sentiments to her. He falls asleep one night for what seems like only minutes.  
  
He dreams of home- of paellas, of his father's coffee mug, Max's backpack and Alex's eye roll.   
  
When he wakes, he feels a weight on his chest and he looks down. He's not fully awake at first so all he wants to do is check his watch so maybe he can check to see if his sleep cycle is truly ideal.   
  
When he does actually wake up -- he sees Alex and her midnight dark hair splayed over his chest.   
Her soft curves press to his hard edges. He thinks that maybe it was a bad idea to a share a room with her.   
  
'Alex?' He asks, softly.   
  
‘You're awake, doofus?'   
  
Alex's voice is boyish and anyone who doesn't know her won't be able to translate the waver in her voice when she calls him 'doofus'.   
  
'You have your own bed, you know?'   
  
Just because he's tired doesn't necessarily mean that he wants to protest. Her weight is welcome on his chest and it's and they're alone so why should he reject this beacon of light in the blackness of the night?   
  
'Yours is better, obviously.'   
  
Her breath is warm and somehow it penetrates through his blue cotton T-shirt.  
  
'Is that why you're in it?'   
  
He's always acted oblivious and why should he stop now?   
  
She sits up and the weight is lifted off of his chest and he misses the warmth of all of a sudden. Disappointment rushes over him. He hasn't felt so bad since he got an A- in a calculus test in eighth grade.   
  
Her slender fingers reach out to stroke the slant of his chin.   
  
‘I ... just ... I've tried talking to Max and I ... don't want to talk. I don't want to feel like I should be somewhere else.'   
  
She's so beautiful right now. She's always had her own allure but she's a woman now. And she's here.   
  
'I know, what you mean.'   
  
His hand reaches out to capture her fingers and he likes the solid warmth that she provides him. He's held these fingers all his life and he doesn't want to let go right now.   
  
She leans into him, her dark tresses caress his face and there's this jolt of electricity (more than 1.1 gigawatts) that rushes through him when her mouth meets his.   
  
He's usually the one to take her lead in everything but he pulls away this time, because he needs to process what's going on. He looks at her with wide eyes and he sees her- her lips tremble a little and her lively eyes look worried.   
  
'What are you doing?'   
  
'Trying to reach out.'   
  
He's surrounded by the sea so it's not hard for him to feel lost. (She looks kind of ethereal, right now, you know? It’s like he's seeing those brown eyes and the slope of her cheekbones for the first time.)   
  
'So, you wanted to ...'   
  
She flushes and it's sort of comforting. He's always been the jittery one, so it's strange to see this side of Alex and he feels warm all over because he knows that he's the one of the people who have seen this side of her.  
  
'Well, we're not going to hell if we're not related, right?' She looks at him, her eyes, betraying nothing. 'Yeah? Didn't think so.'   
  
She shifts to leave his head and he holds on to her hand.   
  
Yeah, so much for all those lectures about how 'Oh Justin, you're still our baby.'   
  
When she turns back to look at him, she looks a little ... well 'smug' would sound so crude and 'complacent' would sound malicious so he'd like to think that maybe she's a little satisfied.   
  
(And hell, for once her satisfaction is related to him in a way that doesn't involve his injury.)   
  
'I knew you'd come around,' her mouth whispers against his right ear and he has to close his eyes when her lips brush up against his ear.   
  
He can't handle using all of his senses right now.   
  
'What? You thought I was easy?' He sputters. 'I am not ... easy.'   
  
'Yeah, save it.' Her voice is playful and it doesn't have a cutting edge.   
  
She slides on top of him. Aligning her hips with his and the heat of her legs press against his thighs. She's in this odd crouching position where her elbows align with his and he buries his hands into her hair because he needs to do something right now.   
  
She kisses the stubble on his left cheek and he feels so masculine all of a sudden.   
  
'So we're ..'   
  
He sighs into the sensation.   
  
'Yeah.'   
  
His hand slips inside her T-shirt and he caresses the warm expanse of her skin. She lets out a small gasp.   
  
(He's been around her long enough. He knows how to bottom from the top. No pun intended of course.)   
  
She slips out from under his touch and her hips slides lower and lower until she reaches his pelvis.   
  
'You've never done this, have you?' Her curiosity is genuine.   
  
He tries to make some of the blood that has taken a u-turn from his brain to his crotch return to the right direction.   
  
'No.'   
  
'Really?' And then there's that childlike excitement there again. As if he can't get a girl to do this him. Ugh.   
  
'Is that unbelievable?' He raises an eyebrow, half offended, half ... whatever his body is crying out for further contact.   
  
'No, but it works for me.'   
  


He grips her hips a little too tightly and moves.   
  
'You?' He exhales, looking into her eyes.   
  
She hesitates.   
  
'No.'   
  
He crushes against his lower body against hers so he can feel of the wetness in her underwear.   
'You're my first.'   
  
He guides her head down until his tongue reaches out inside her lips and he uses it to caress her mouth. She tastes like black cherries and he grinds against her hips and he angles his hard cock until it hits her clitoris in ... what appears to be the right angle.   
  
'Oh.' She groans, and closes her eyes.   
  
Yes, that's the right angle- advanced geometry was bound to pay off at some point in his practical life.   
  
He lets out a throaty chuckle and she slides over the length of his member.  
  
He wants to bite his lips- hide his enjoyment until he comes.   
  
'Why are you so good?' She half asks and half groans. Did he mention that it was comforting to see her be so flustered?  
  
He sucks in his lower lip into his mouth and he speaks when he's sure that he's not going to be vocal.   
  
'Quality,' he whispers into the tresses of her hair that brush his face, 'is apparent in every aspect of a man's personality.'   
  
There's a joy that runs through him that he's still coherent at this point. It feels almost as good as his blood that's making his lower body ache.   
  
'You're insufferable during this too, _oh_ , how, _ah_ , predictable.'   
  
She lets out warm puffs of breath onto his neck and fuck, her underwear is kind of soaking wet.   
  
(How awesome is it that the materials of his pants are thin? Very.)   
  
He sits up and she tries to push him down.   
  
'What are you doing?' She accuses him.   
  
He holds her wrists and speaks. 'I've got a better idea.'   
  
'Bondage doesn't make you ten times cooler and you just interrupted something important.' She hisses.   
  
He moves away from her so that there's some space between them.   
  
'You, back against the bed post, now.'   
  
Well, he's just a man—no a teenage boy, so how much coherence can one expect? She looks away for a few seconds and he's sort of giddy when she follows his orders. She is never ever going to willingly take his lead in anything else but hey, this works for him.   
  
He pulls her up so she's on his lap and her back his up against the bed post.   
  
His mouth presses into hers- and she tastes so warm and inviting.  
  
His hand slide up to feel the silky softness of her skin. It reaches the cotton material of her bra and he slides his hand over her breast.   
  
'So, you're not a leg man, Justin?' She teases and he swallows her giggle with his mouth.   
  
He breaks away from the kiss to bury his face into the damp crook of her neck.   
  
'No.' He admits and his face feels like it's on fire.   
  
'You're blushing Justin,' she points out, her amusement apparent. 'You're groping my breast but I point it out, and you blush?'   
  
And he kisses her again to swallow her laughter and he presses up his hardness against her wetness.   
  
His hand slides out her shirt and presses against the bed post. He uses the support to push against her body.   
  
She tightens her legs around his waist and she pulls his hair and the tension feels so good.   
  
'Justin, please.' She begs.   
  
And he's older brother and he might not share her blood but he's never one to say no to her.   
He grinds against her again, she moans loudly and he feels the metallic tang of blood hit his mouth.   
  
'You feel so good, Justin.' Her voice is so rich.   
  
He knows he's coming undone. Their breathing gets breathier and the frequency of their movements increase.   
  
Alex sort of shoves her center against his length but fortunately it doesn't really hurt; it feels good.   
  
She presses against him harder this time and she sinks her teeth into his earlobe. He lets out a sigh and grips her hips, trying to her guide motions. He can feel her blood sing and like his own- it sings for release.   
  
After a few more strokes, she calls out his name.   
  
Her body sort of eases into his own.   
  
He lets out a groan once warm liquid fills the content of his clothes. She holds him with her arms around his back. The feeling of her legs which are still wrapped around his waist feels reassuring.   
  
He can feel the pace of her heart through his own chest. It slows down after a while as it catch up with his own. Their breathing becomes more even and synchronized.   
  


He gently pulls away from her and gets up from the bed. She holds his hand and gets up with him.   
  
'You owe me new clothes.' She states, simply.   
  
He should be annoyed but there's a tenderness in her features and he almost forgets that he needs a change of clothes. Right now.   
  
They get cleaned up. They do what's hygienic.   
  
('Oh gross, Justin, we just had sex. Why do you have to remind me to pee?')   
  
('Technically, we're still virgins and you're going to thank me for my sound advice someday.')  
  
But he's Justin and well ... impulsiveness may take hold of him sometimes but it isn't becoming of him.   
  
They put away his bed sheet and lay down another sheet in its place.   
  
(When he blushes, she tells him it's not like Moseby's going to care.)   
  
(He doesn't want to feel awkward or upset. Something amazing happened to him and Alex is actually helping him make his bed which just adds to the surreal aspect of his night.)   
  
When his bed is made and he lies down on it and looks at her.   
  
'I don't want to feel cramped up.'   
  
And he feels like crap. He really, really does.   
  
'But you know ... you should sleep in mine. My bed is bigger than yours.'  
  
She lies down in her bed; the white sheets make a stark contrast with her dark hair and creamy complexion.   
  
'You coming?'   
  
'Well, I already did.' And then he regrets it. Damn it.  
  
She rolls her eyes.   
  
He leaves his bed and lies down in hers. It feels warmer and far more comfortable than his own.   
  
She turns around and he can smell her hair. Her back presses up against his chest. The hard lines of his body make a sort of tangent with her curves. He moves until he's sure that they fit together.  
  
He closes his eyes and he thinks of home.   
  
He remembers the smell of meat and coffee. The rush of the customers and the pitch of his mother's voice.   
  
He feels better than he has all day.   
  
(Save for that one incident, of course.)   
  
\-   
Tomorrow, his heart will feel like a ton of bricks when his parents will speak to him over the phone. He'll nearly confess the events of the previous nights by accident to random strangers. When Moseby will stare at his bruised lip or when Zack and Cody look at him differently, he'll try to move to the most secluded corner of the ship.   
  
(Tomorrow, Max might tell him that they're trying to take advantage of his unconditional love because hey he's perceptive enough to know that relationships surpass flesh and blood and pseudo incest is still incest.)   
  
But for tonight, he'll forget about the smell of the sea, the odour of salt and fishes.   
  
Tonight, he'll know the comfort in the familiar fragrance of black cherry scented glycerin soap.


End file.
